


life without you

by epiproctan



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: A little angst, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Prostate Massage, a lot of self-reflection, koujaku bottoms cuz i know everyone likes bottom koujaku
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epiproctan/pseuds/epiproctan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noiz returns to Germany without a word. Koujaku has no choice but to go after him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Noiz jolted awake.

His heart was pounding and his body was slick with sweat, and it took him a moment of mental retrospection to remember where he was, that his skin wasn’t bloodied and torn, that his limbs were intact, that the worst pain he could feel right now was his arm crammed uncomfortably against his chest. He was whole and he was alive and he wasn’t in any immediate danger, and as this realization washed over him his breathing slowed to a normal pace. These dreams were a new thing, since he’d gained the ability to feel, and like the bite of a lit stovetop or the agony of a banged elbow, he still hadn’t entirely gotten used to them yet.

He hadn’t, and his partner hadn’t quite yet either. As Noiz took deep regulated breaths, Koujaku, having been woken from his sleep, shifted and tightened his arms around him, murmuring, “Nightmare?”

Noiz didn’t reply, but he did press his face into Koujaku’s neck and inhaled deeply, savoring the faint scent of his skin. He was safe here.

“Disgusting, you’re sweaty,” Koujaku grumbled, but bent his neck to rest his nose in Noiz’s hair.

“You’re disgusting,” Noiz replied petulantly.

In truth, though, Noiz didn’t really find Koujaku very disgusting at all. In fact, he realized grudgingly as Koujaku mumbled a half-finished retort that trailed off into light snores, Koujaku was just about the opposite of disgusting.

Somehow, about a year had already passed since they had started sharing their lives with each other. It had been a long year, a hard one at times, but if Noiz was to be completely honest he would not have described it as disgusting. Not even the time when Koujaku caught the flu and vomited into Noiz’s lap when he tried to get him to eat something. Noiz had never known that kind of feeling before. The desire to help someone when they were sick, and being okay with them puking on you in the process. Waking up from a nightmare in their arms and instantly feeling relieved and safe. The warmth in his chest now as he pulled his head back to look at Koujaku’s face, sleeping and vulnerable and gently accented with moonlight. They had gotten better at admitting their feelings to each other over that year, their relationship gradually becoming less about angry frustrated sex and more about reluctant affection, but Noiz still couldn’t tell Koujaku the extent of the feelings he had for him. Sometimes it was difficult for him to accept himself, firstly that he had fallen so hard at all, and secondly that it was for _this_ _guy_ , of all people.

The truth was, Koujaku had made Noiz feel love, and feel _loved_ , for the first time in his life. This concept was invaluable to Noiz. He had never imagined that it might make him so happy, that it might fill the voids within which he had always felt as though something was wrong but couldn’t figure out what exactly. With the attachment to another person, he no longer felt like he was standing on the other side of some glass wall, watching a humanity that he couldn’t understand. When he came to love Koujaku he came to comprehend the things he had been missing: warmth, affection, actually giving a shit about something, belonging. Happiness.

Now that he had feeling, and Koujaku’s steady hand to hold as he got used to it, everything made even more sense. He suddenly understood why Koujaku wouldn’t let him go out in the winter without a jacket, and why the older man always rushed for the first aid kit when Noiz came home bloodied. Why Koujaku always asked him to use more lube and take it slow when he first pushed into him. And exactly how much better it felt to overcome that initial pain and completely lose yourself in the pleasure.

Koujaku had shown Noiz a world he had never known. Before him, Noiz had existed on this planet for nineteen years, and it took until Koujaku had punched him in the face and then kissed his bloody lips to actually feel like he was alive.

Noiz reached up and traced a finger along the contours of Koujaku’s face. In response he stirred, but didn’t wake. Noiz hated the way his soft lips were slightly parted, the way his dark hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, the way the scar that stretched across his nose gave him a particular dangerously handsome air. Noiz hated it because it made his chest feel tight and his heart beat fast, and sometimes the feelings he had for this man he’d once despised felt more raw and powerful than any of the physical sensations he was still trying to get used to. It was terrible.

But it was so beautiful.

“I love you, old man,” he whispered, though he was certain that Koujaku was asleep. Although he’d said those words to him before when he was conscious, they just kind of slipped out at times like this.

The thought itself annoyed him a little, but more than using dumb words like that, he wanted to _show_ Koujaku. He wanted to show him gratitude for what he’d done, and how important it was to him that Koujaku was here. The same way that Koujaku had shown him the beauty of the world and what it meant to be alive. When he thought about it, he realized that Koujaku had given him a lot, just by never giving up on him. Maybe it was time for him to give Koujaku something back.

Noiz was twenty now. An adult in the eyes of society. Yet he still didn’t have a job (well, a legitimate one, anyway) or any kind of higher education (though what would the use of that even be). He could easily support himself, between the money that he made and whatever he had lying around his bank account, but that didn’t mean he was achieving anything. When he compared himself to Koujaku, who had gained fame and popularity for doing something he enjoyed, Noiz felt a little bit insecure.

Especially recently. Despite Noiz’s constant jabbing reminders, it seemed as thought it had only just started to occur to Koujaku exactly how old he was. Lately, serious comments from him like, _What do you think is going to happen to us in the future?_ hadn’t been uncommon, and though Noiz had always blown them off with a snort and a snarky retort, it was a real concern for two people who had started a relationship on the basis that if they didn’t fuck each other, they’d probably kill each other. That kind of thing was difficult to think about, but if he didn’t face it, he might have to deal with consequences that he didn’t want any part of. The fact of the matter was, as much as Noiz hated to admit it to himself and would never actually say this aloud, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Koujaku. He was tired of being left alone, and the idea of ever having a life without Koujaku was somehow unsettling and distasteful. But when he thought long-term like that, he realized that such things sounded foolish from someone who didn’t have any sort of solid future.

 Maybe he should focus on his life, now that he had one. What he wanted to achieve and do with it.

Noiz made a decision.

Tilting his head back, he brushed his lips against Koujaku’s, indulging in their soft warmth for a moment before tucking his head back into his neck and returning to sleep.

 

“Oi, Beansprout,” Koujaku called through his apartment, “I’m going to work now. If you go out make sure you lock the door behind you.”

Noiz made a show of burying his head under the pillow in response, but the minute he heard the door click shut behind Koujaku, he sat up straight and climbed out of bed. It was time.

 

When Koujaku got home from work, something immediately seemed _off_. Noiz wasn’t there, but that wasn’t quite it. Noiz often went out in the late afternoon, so he usually wasn’t home when Koujaku returned from work. He could always tell because the apartment would be remarkably quiet without the clacking of fingertips on a keyboard somewhere or the squealing “ _Pi!_ ” of his Allmate. No, Noiz was not there, but it felt like he wasn’t the only thing that was missing.

Koujaku ventured further into the apartment, searching for the cause of his unease. It looked like Noiz had finally gotten around to picking up the dirty sweatshirt he’d left draped on the arm of the couch. Maybe that was it. And the tabletop in the kitchen was somehow neater, as all the delivery pizza advertisements that had served as a tablecloth for the past two months seemed to have vanished. Had Noiz cleaned up? But as Koujaku entered his bedroom, he noticed that there was a lot more missing than just a few pieces of paper and a sweatshirt.

It wasn’t all gone. There was a pair of his leggings on the floor still, a single green sock looking forlorn and abandoned in the corner, and his hat, the dumb one he always insisted on wearing even when it was 33 degrees outside, crumpled in on itself on the bed. But that was about it. The shirts he’d left laying around on the windowsill were gone. The pants that hung out of his half-opened drawers were gone. The pajamas that stayed in a neatly folded pile on the dresser because they were never used were gone. Everything was gone.

Noiz was gone.

But he had left something behind.

There were twenty pieces of metal on the bathroom counter next to the sink. Koujaku had counted them. Four times. They gleamed like they were glaring at Koujaku, disobeying him. Their twisted designs and smooth surfaces and simple shapes made Koujaku want to break something. He was trying really hard to be calm, but before he’d noticed the way his breaths were coming short and trembling, his shaking fingers were on his coil, calling Noiz, over and over, cursing each time as it didn’t go through, fighting against the knowledge that something was wrong, the feeling that the world had just been wrenched open. Maybe he’d missed something, maybe it wasn’t what it seemed like, maybe….

_Why did—_

Koujaku swept all the piercings off the counter. They tinkled as they flew into the wall and rained down onto the floor.

_He’d thought—_

He went to his coil again and made a call.

_But everything was—_

The phone rang twice before he picked up. “Koujaku? What’s up?”

_Where_ —

“Aoba,” Koujaku gasped. “Do you know where Noiz is?”

_Hadn’t they—_

“What? He didn’t tell you?” Aoba sounded surprised.

_But it’d been so—_

“Ren said that Clear ran into him carrying a duffle bag today. Apparently he was on his way to the airport or something.”

_He had_ —

“He went back to Germany.”

_They had_ —

“Koujaku? Koujaku, are okay?”

_They had loved each other, right?_

Koujaku hung up.

 

For the first two days Koujaku took a deep breath at every thought of Noiz and told himself not to worry about it. He made an honest attempt to go about his life as he normally did, and was successful in many ways for that time. Ignoring the pain in his chest when he came home to a quiet apartment, he promised himself that either he would get over it or Noiz would be back soon.

On the third day he didn’t sleep. On the fourth he didn’t eat. On the fifth he didn’t leave his bed.

For seven more days Koujaku waited and wondered. He didn’t go to work or to see his team. He mostly laid there, in a big, empty, cold bed, and thought. He thought about the nights he’d spent in that bed over the past year, teaching a senseless human to feel. He thought about the way their skin had rubbed against each other, how their eyes had met, and then their lips, and then their bodies. He thought about the times when he shook so hard he couldn’t sleep, and how thin understanding arms had snaked around him and held him until the cloud had passed from his mind. He thought about fingers tracing the lines of his scars and tattoos, and how under the gaze of those electric eyes he felt more human and less a monster. He thought about mornings, about soothing closed eyelids with tissue-soft kisses, about the way sunlight turned strands of strawberry blond to golden champagne, about how gentle laughter was his favorite kind of music. He thought about bad fights, slammed doors, bruises and bloodied noses, angry shouts met with quiet piercing responses, and falling violently onto the mattress. He thought about moans and gasps and hearing his name whispered in his ear. He thought about love, and he thought about life without it.

It wasn’t a life he wanted anymore.

If there had been some sign, some warning, he had missed it completely. He couldn’t imagine what might have caused Noiz to just _leave_. Even as he reviewed the last few weeks, the last few _months_ , in his head over and over, he saw nothing. Was it because he didn’t stay awake to ask about Noiz’s nightmare? Was it because he forgot to tell Noiz that he was coming home late that day last week? Was it because of that time last month that they had fought over Noiz’s eating habits, and Koujaku had kicked him out of bed for two days after Noiz had asked him if he was going to lose his self-control over it?

Or was it because he was old? Because he was boring? Because Noiz had never meant to stick around with him so long in the first place?

He had thought he’d known better than to build the foundation of his life on a person. He thought he’d learned, like how a child who touches a dog and comes away bitten learns to be cautious of dogs. But apparently one heartbreak hadn’t been enough for him. He had wanted more, and he had gotten another. How much could he take?

For a week Koujaku pondered. And every time his coil rang he jolted to life and grabbed it, only to feel his chest constrict painfully when the caller ID read something other than “Shitty Brat”. When he heard the doorbell, increasingly often as his absence was noted, he let hope live for a few seconds until he remembered that Noiz had never used his doorbell; even before he’d had a key, Koujaku would always just find him somehow inside. It took him that time to realize he wasn’t coming back.

It only took him a day after that to realize that if Noiz wasn’t coming back, he would have to go to Noiz.

Maybe Noiz had gotten tired of him. Maybe Noiz felt that for some reason he’d had to flee the country to get away from him. Maybe it wasn’t meant to work out between them. But somehow that brat had been soaked up into Koujaku’s bloodstream, and he didn’t feel like struggling on without him. This thought surprised him, in all honestly, even after his week of moping. That Noiz, the same Noiz who he’d fought with and hated and wanted to drive away now was vital to everyday life for him. So much so that he was reduced to this when he disappeared.

Koujaku wouldn’t believe they were over until he heard it from Noiz’s mouth. He couldn’t give up yet.

He got out of bed. He packed a bag. He gathered all the little pieces of metal, the pieces of Noiz, off of the bathroom floor and put them in a little drawstring pouch that he put in his pocket. He messaged Kou to tell him that he was leaving and to take care of the team for him. He didn’t know when he’d be back. He went to the airport, and he bought a ticket to Germany.

 

Koujaku realized very quickly that he hadn’t thought this through.

He arrived at 3 AM, tired, hungry, and nervous, and without any leads on Noiz’s actual location except for the name of his family’s company. He knew how to say exactly five things in terribly accented German: damn, shit, fuck, good morning, and I love you (except for the fourth, which he had looked up himself, all those had slipped past Noiz’s lips enough times for Koujaku to have memorized them). On the other side of the earth this had seemed like a daunting but doable task, but now that he was standing in an airport surrounded by illegible signs and without much of a plan, he was beginning to realize how foolish it had been to just hop on a plane and chase his boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to a foreign country.

Possibly the worst part about the whole thing was probably that this meant he couldn’t even pretend he didn’t care anymore. Noiz’s absence had shaken him to the core, and this was proof. He shouldn’t care this much. Especially about _Noiz_. And yet here he was, getting into a taxi, pointing at the map on his coil to where he’d found the headquarters of Noiz’s father’s company.

Koujaku had never been outside Japan before, but this wasn’t the time to be sightseeing. Instead of looking out the window, he arranged himself. He counted his new foreign money and tried to remember the exchange rate. He shuffled through his belongings, glad that he had thought to brush his teeth and change his clothes at the airport. He fought off sleep, beginning to wish that he had made hotel arrangements or _something_ …that he had thought about this at all….

Five am briefly stopped by for a visit and found Koujaku asleep on a bench in a park across from the tall building that housed Noiz’s family’s company. It wasn’t the most comfortable of lodging, but it was warm out and though the sky was cloudy there wasn’t any rain, and Koujaku had had worse nights. At least he could begin his search in a few hours. Somehow, likely thanks to jetlag and the exhaustion of travel, he was able to fall asleep.

 

And somehow thanks to those same reasons, it wasn’t until 9 am that he awoke with sunlight in his face, pain in his back, and dread in his gut. He sat up slowly, thinking he’d almost rather have a hangover than deal with this bullshit, and glanced about himself to make sure that his (admittedly limited) belongings were all still there. More than anything he wanted a place to wash his face and mouth and maybe a bottle of water, but because of his own idiotic whims he didn’t even have that luxury.

He rearranged his ponytail, smoothed out his clothing, and stood to face whatever fate he’d brought upon himself.

 

Even if Koujaku had showered in the last twenty-four hours, he still would have felt underdressed stepping into the building. But it didn’t help that he had taken a twelve hour plane ride, slept in a park, and probably smelled like a hobo. In a place like this, though, where all the ladies wore stilettos and the men’s shoes were almost reflective, it was pretty obvious that he didn’t belong. He felt this even more acutely when the receptionist looked up at him through her glasses, her almost-pleasant smile not hiding the way her eyes widened at the sight of him. He approached her and immediately came to the realization that he had no idea what to say.

“ _Guten Morgen_ ,” he started haltingly, wondering if all his self-confidence and charisma with women had disappeared the moment he stepped into another country, or if it had been because he went to that country to chase after another _man_. He flashed her his best smile anyway, and it appeared to soften her a bit, but it was harder to hold on his face the more he repeated Noiz’s birth name in the best approximation of it he could muster with his limited set of Japanese phonemes and only received a blank stare in return. She said something to him in German, but obviously that was as useful as a match underwater.

This continued for an amount of time he might have found almost comical in any other situation, and Koujaku resorted to vague hand motions to try and get his message across. The surprisingly patient woman tried a few other languages in vain before eventually shrugging at him helplessly.

Koujaku didn’t know what to do. This was his one lead, his one way to possibly find Noiz. Was he just supposed to turn around and go home now? Get on another plane and return to his apartment and lay in bed and think about where his life had gone wrong _again_? Hadn’t he experienced enough misfortune yet? Would he ever get a break? Everything felt like it was crumbling in on itself, like his whole life was just a series of poorly delivered jokes.

He was about to turn and leave, to go who knows where, when a second woman walked up to the receptionist and began speaking to her animatedly. The first woman nodded a lot and smiled, and then held up a hand to Koujaku as though telling him to wait. She picked up a phone, dialed a number, and began speaking into the receiver as though she was apologizing. Once she hung up the phone, she smiled at Koujaku and gave him an encouraging nod before returning to chatting with the second woman.

What was he supposed to do now? She had gestured for him to wait, and she had seemed a little more upbeat after that phone call. Was there some solution coming? What was going on? Koujaku stood uncomfortably in front of the desk while awaiting further direction that he thought may never come.

But then the elevator _ding_ ed, the doors slid open, and Koujaku glanced up to see who the newest guest at his awkward party was.

Their eyes met.

It all started in those green, green eyes, perpetually narrow and demanding and defiant. They burned in a face that was simultaneously comfortable and completely alien to Koujaku. It was the same skin that he knew every inch of, the forehead and nose he had tasted with his lips, the ears that he caught between his teeth. But now it was so empty, so jarringly unrecognizable. The piercings that had crowded his ears, the metal that glinted angrily from his eyebrow, they were all gone. The only features left on his face were natural ones: his low eyebrows, a thin nose, lips pulled into a dissatisfied line. He was neat, clean, dressed in a suit and his hair combed, so unlike its usual hat-mussed state.

Koujaku felt such a number of emotions at once, he wasn’t quite sure which one to register first.

He was met with an expression that, he knew from months of reading expressions that all looked like self-satisfied disinterest on the surface, was in fact deep surprise. Noiz stared at him, unblinking, from inside the elevator, and only moved to step forward awkwardly when the doors began to close on him. He walked towards Koujaku slowly, looking him up and down, as though expecting him to dematerialize at any moment.

“Noiz?” Koujaku asked cautiously. As thought it could have been anyone else. There was no one in the world who could wear an expression quite like that and make it drill so deeply into his emotions.

“ _You’re_ the weird Asian guy in the lobby they asked me to translate for?” Noiz said, almost breathlessly, forgetting to cover up the shock in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I—?” Koujaku echoed, incredulous. What did it _look_ like he was doing here?

Noiz didn’t respond, but instead turned to the ladies at the desk. Without even so much as a smile, he exchanged a few curt, rapid sentences with them, and then spun around back towards the elevator.

“Come on,” he tossed over his shoulder in Japanese, and since Koujaku was the only other person in the room who could speak that language, he presumed it was aimed towards him.

He took a few large strides forward to catch up to Noiz, just as the elevator doors were sliding back open. Noiz jerked his head towards it as an invitation for Koujaku to go in first, and then he followed him in.

“Noiz,” Koujaku repeated, this time not as a question but as an opening statement. There were so many things for him to say, so many things for him to ask, so much that he had to—

A single glance from Noiz halted the words in his throat, where they stuck, frozen and choking. It was cold, so cold, and for Koujaku, who had never seen that kind of frigidness in Noiz’s gaze before, it was a shock. Even before they’d had their relationship, even Noiz’s most hateful glares had burned rather than frozen.  

The moment Koujaku had found himself getting ready for an impromptu trip to Germany (because he hadn’t _decided_ to, he realized now that he thought about it; it was just something that had happened), scenes of their reunion had began to form in his mind. They varied quite a bit. There was the one he resentfully liked best, in which Noiz would apologize immediately and have an perfectly reasonable excuse as to why he’d suddenly vanished, and then Koujaku would take him to a conveniently-placed bed and violently thrust into him until he cried tears of pleasure. There was the more realistic one, in which Noiz didn’t apologize right away (because when was Noiz one to apologize ever, really), and Koujaku would have to punch him in the face before he started showing real signs of remorse (admittedly Koujaku liked this scenario too, because punching Noiz in the face seemed liked a desirable thing to do at the moment). But for every optimistic imaginary dialogue his brain provided to him, there were five that ended with him returning to Midorijima alone. These were the ones that Koujaku feared: Noiz ignoring him, Noiz telling him he didn’t want him in his life anymore, Noiz driving him away.

In all honestly, this situation didn’t feel _quite_ like those last imaginings, but it definitely wasn’t the first or the second. The sound of Noiz’s shocked, almost disgusted, _“What are you doing here?”_ ran through his head over and over and he tried to find a good place to start talking. He couldn’t lie to himself. He hadn’t expected Noiz to be ecstatic to see him, but he had maybe hoped a little.

“Where are we going?” Koujaku finally managed to choke out, awkwardly. _Damn_. Just two weeks ago he was spewing cheesy lines into this kid’s ear to watch him blush. What was going on?

“My office,” Noiz answered in his typical curt manner, but the words felt like they cut into Koujaku somehow.

Koujaku couldn’t stop examining his face. It was still Noiz. Those pale eyelashes were still there, the thin lips drawn into a line, eyes like harsh sunlight through summer leaves. But the absence of his piercings opened up expanses of pale unblemished skin and made him look more like an adult. He was more handsome than ever, and Koujaku wasn’t sure if he liked it.

“Your office,” he murmured. Noiz was wearing a suit. He was wearing a suit and he had an office, which meant he had a _real_ job. The thought was so incongruous with his image of Noiz that he felt vertiginous.

The elevator arrived at their destination and Noiz strode out as though he owned the place. Which wasn’t quite true, Koujaku realized following along with slightly more timid footsteps, but it was close. The relief he’d felt at having found Noiz had quickly been overshadowed by the deep fear of what would happen now that he had.

A number of curious eyes seemed to be following them as Noiz led Koujaku down a hallway full of open doors. A few people called out to Noiz as they passed, and he stoically flashed them his hand in return. One in particular stood out to Koujaku, a young and pretty woman who Koujaku would’ve given more attention to if he wasn’t trying to figure out why it bothered him so much that her office was right next to the one labeled with Noiz’s full birth name. Into this room they went, and the door slammed shut behind them.

“What are you doing here?” Noiz repeated, now with less surprise and more brittleness in his voice, like the ice was thin and cracked.

Koujaku was beginning to feel lost and overwhelmed. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Noiz stared back silently before dropping his eyes, then went to his desk and sat down. Like everything else in the room, it was of a nice quality, made of some dark executive-looking wood, and behind it Noiz seemed too pale in juxtaposition. The room was small, and there was very little inside, but the windows overlooked the park and gave it a more cheery tone. There was no chair for Koujaku, and Noiz made no move to offer him one.

“I have work,” Noiz stated.

Unable to clearly discern the implications behind the statement, Koujaku began to grow irritated. It was beginning to feel like all of this had been for nothing, even more so than when he hadn’t yet seen Noiz at all. He had come for answers, either a confirmation or a rejection. He would even happily accept that rejection. At least he would know. But it felt like he hadn’t yet been accepted or denied, and he was lost in some kind of cold, directionless void.

It was so irritating.

“So what, you want me to just leave?” Koujaku spat.

“No,” Noiz replied evenly. “I was warning you. My brother’s taking me to a meeting soon.”

Koujaku took a deep breath. “Oh.”

“You can stay here until I get back.”

Well, at least Noiz wasn’t outright shooing him away. Not openly, anyway. The exchange still made Koujaku uncomfortable, though. The last time there had been this much tension between them, Noiz had ended up with a broken finger and they had later made out violently in the examination room at the ER when Koujaku had insisted that they go.

A formal knock came from the door, making Koujaku flinch (something which Noiz normally would have laughed at, but there was no sound from the younger man). The doorknob turned, and Koujaku felt a sense of embarrassment drop through his entire body. As the door opened, he found himself caught between Noiz and a man who had his same hair, his same facial structure, but none of the open smugness or annoyance that Noiz’s face usually registered. _Noiz’s brother_.

They stared at each other in surprise for an extended, awkward moment, until Noiz stepped forward and said something in German. The siblings exchanged a few more words, with a number of glances in Koujaku’s direction, until the brother’s face transitioned from confusion to downright shock and openly stared at the Japanese man in the room. Koujaku felt like maybe jumping out the window was a better option than subjecting himself to this, until the brother started babbling something apologetically and extended a hand for Koujaku to shake.

“What’s he saying?” Koujaku turned to Noiz, helpless and bewildered. Noiz just shrugged and ushered his still-chattering brother out of the room.

As the door shut behind them, Koujaku stood rooted in the middle of the room, feeling like he’d just been dropped off on the moon without a source of oxygen. He was pretty shaken. He’d _known_ that coming to Germany might mean meeting Noiz’s family. He’d had plenty of time to think about that on his plane ride here. But he hadn’t been mentally prepared for the sudden appearance of the little brother who lived in Noiz’s occasional curt stories of an unhappy childhood as the single solace in a hollow world. He’d been even less prepared for an uncooperative Noiz in that situation, and wondered what kind of impression he’d made. Undoubtedly a poor one, dressed as he was in wrinkled clothes, hair unkempt, and not able to understand a word of what was going on.

Koujaku took a deep shaky breath and went to sit in Noiz’s desk chair. He sunk into the padded cushion and examined the desk. It clearly hadn’t been in Noiz’s possession for very long because the clutter was minimal. He couldn't even begin to make sense of this situation, especially Noiz’s behavior, and he felt like if he let this go on he might go insane. Next time he saw Noiz, he would confront him directly. No more skirting around the subject. He had to know what was going through that immature head of his.

For the next hour and a half Koujaku attempted to make himself presentable in the bathroom, and then examined Noiz’s office, though there wasn’t much to examine. There was barely anything there, no personal touches revealing that someone even worked there at all. Everything carried a slight odor of Styrofoam, as though it’d recently come out of a box. Noiz could have only been working there for a few days, after all.

How nice it must be, thought Koujaku dryly. How nice to be able to return to the place of your childhood and have people waiting for you there. To go to your parents and for them to accept you into their arms and their lives. What a sweet thing it must be to even have parents at all. Koujaku understood Noiz’s position, or at least tried to, after hearing countless stories of a shadowy, void childhood. And yet how bad could it have truly been, if he still had a family to come home to? The thought irritated Koujaku to the point of physical discomfort as he began to wonder why Noiz had fled to Midorijima at all. Some people just didn’t realize how easy they had it.

It was around 12:30 when Noiz returned with two sandwiches the likes of which Koujaku had never seen before. He didn’t entirely enjoy the strong flavor of the one he was silently handed, but he hadn’t eaten since the measly bits of food in a plastic box he’d been served on the plane. The room was quiet as they ate, a different quiet than the kind that generally settled between them, when they were done with their ritualistic bickering or when they stopped to look at each other for no reason other than to affirm that yes, their breaths still caught in their throats when their eyes met. Noiz perched on the edge of his desk, facing the door, and Koujaku watched his well-dressed shoulders and back with heightening anxiety.

When he was finished with his sandwich, he stood. Firm and deep, he urged his voice out. “Hey, I—”

Noiz hopped up and left the room, abandoning Koujaku with his mouth half-open and words again clogged in his windpipe.

The door was open, and he could hear the cool low voice that resounded so comfortably in his ears speaking in German, and a female reply. He was starting to dislike the woman next door, for reasons he couldn’t fathom. But momentarily Noiz returned, carrying a chair. He placed it next to the door.

“Sit here,” he said, and then edged up next to Koujaku as though waiting for him to vacate his seat.

Koujaku did, but it was only so that he could look down at Noiz. “Hey,” he said, agitation and exhaustion surfacing in his tone. “What’s going on?”

Noiz glanced away and pulled the chair away from Koujaku, ostensibly so that he could sit on it himself, but he made no move to actually be seated. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“No, you _can’t_ ,” Koujaku said, but now Noiz was physically pushing him aside to access his desk. It was the first time their bodies had come into contact with each other in over a week, and it sent the strangest mixture of anxiety and annoyance tingling through his body. It was almost nostalgic. He hadn’t felt that way in months.

“You should go back to Japan,” Noiz said quietly.

Koujaku felt like all of his internal organs vanished at that moment, leaving a gaping hole where his heart and stomach should be. Go back to Japan. Noiz had said it. It was the closest thing to any kind of confirmation either way that he’d gotten so far. Noiz didn’t want him here.

He thought he might puke.

He also thought he might throw something. Something heavy, preferably. At Noiz’s head.

“Go back to Japan?” he repeated, aware that he was losing his cool so fast it was like he’d been shoved in a microwave. “I came _all this way_ because you _vanished_ , and now you’re telling me to _go back to Japan_?”

Maybe Noiz paled slightly, but there was no other visible or audible reaction from him.

“You bastard. You piece of shit. You haven’t given me a single reason as to why you left. And now you’re telling me to go back to Japan?”

Noiz’s expression remained unchanged. “I thought it was obvious.”

Koujaku felt he had two options at this point: he could either give in to the pain that prickled at his eyelids and cry, or he could become furious. Since crying was the last thing he wanted to do in front of someone who had apparently left him for a reason that was “obvious”, _especially_ since that someone was Noiz, he opted for the latter.

Grabbing Noiz’s suit by the lapels, he heaved him violently up out of the chair. “Look,” he growled. “I know you’re just an immature brat who doesn’t know anything about what it’s like to be a _normal person_ , but it’s basic human decency to tell someone you’re breaking up with them instead of fleeing the country and running back to your mom.”

Before Noiz’s eyes flickered away, Koujaku thought he almost saw hurt in them. “No, you misunderstood,” he said, not meeting Koujaku’s gaze. “I’m not breaking up with you.”

Only for a second was Koujaku’s anger interrupted by the cool, relieving thought of, _He’s not breaking up with me_.

But then all the emotions he’d been holding onto for the past week flooded back in. The worry about Noiz disappearing without any word. The anxiety of not knowing where he was, if he was coming back or not. The pain of being abandoned. The loneliness of being rejected by a loved one. In that instance it was all he could to do remind himself that he was the adult here. Instead of slamming his fist into Noiz’s jaw, he took a deep breath. Enough was enough.

“In that case, I’m breaking up with you,” he said. “Goodbye.”

He dropped, or rather shoved, Noiz back into his chair, spun around, and strode forcefully from the room. He did hear the words called after him, just “Hey!” at first, and then, “ _Koujaku_!” but he ignored them, and focused on making it to the stairs, down one flight at a time, all the way to the bottom. He tried to disregard his shaking hands as he walked past the curious receptionist and outside.

Of course it was raining.

The water cooled his skin and his temper as he walked back to the park, defenseless. He crashed onto his bench, wondering if his only option now was to wait here to die.

Koujaku wasn’t entirely sure what Noiz had meant when he said that he had misunderstood and that he hadn’t broken up with him. But something that Koujaku _was_ sure of was that he was probably better off without the selfish prick in his life. He had been yanked around by that kid one too many times now, and he was tired. Noiz always teasingly called him old, but it was starting to become true, and he was getting too worn-out for the unpredictable kind of life he lived beside Noiz. It was probably about time he stopped fooling around with him, anyway. Realistically, when he thought about it, there wasn’t much anywhere for their relationship to go from here. It wasn’t the same thing that Ren and Aoba had, with their deep unconditional love, who had overcome innumerable obstacles just to hold each other. Koujaku and Noiz had just been two bored lonely guys messing around, playing at a big grown-up relationship to pass the time and pretend that they weren’t so alone in the world. But now that Koujaku was getting older, it was probably about time for him to start looking for a woman to settle down with instead of chasing men who he could never really have anyway. Maybe if it had been someone other than Noiz it would have worked, but he was too young and too capricious and too infuriating from the start. It wasn’t as though they’d become involved with each other holding the idea that what they had was forever, anyway. It had to end at some point.

This was probably what Koujaku deserved. After all that he’d done, there was probably nothing he could do to lead a contented life. Maybe this was just his fate.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there in the rain feeling like there was no ground for him to stand on, but he did know it was long enough for his hair to become completely saturated with rainwater and to plaster even his underwear to his skin. And it was long enough for Noiz, carrying an umbrella to protect his new outfit, to find him sitting there.

“Come on,” he said in that tone of voice Koujaku recognized from the times when he was trying to cover up his anxiety with apparent annoyance. “You’re gonna get sick.”

Koujaku didn’t react.

Noiz sighed heavily and eyed the bench, then plopped down next to Koujaku, holding the umbrella between them.

“Don’t—,” Koujaku protested, forgetting himself, but stopped when Noiz’s expensively-dressed butt made contact with the wet bench seat. Well, who cared anyway. It wasn’t Koujaku’s problem.

They were silent for awhile, watching silver puddles gather in the gutter. Koujaku fought it, but he began to shiver a little, raindrops still plopping from the edge of the umbrella onto his shoulder. Or maybe it was because he could almost feel Noiz breathe, their shoulders only separated by a sliver of wet air, and his body’s desire to seek warmth and comfort and just _things it was used to_ made him feel like he was struggling to hold two oppositely charged magnets apart.

“Why’d you come?” Noiz finally asked. Almost good-naturedly. Or, rather, not accusatively. His tone unsettled Koujaku for a moment, made him want to answer.

“You really have to ask that?” Koujaku replied.

“Yeah…,” said Noiz. “I didn’t think you’d come all the way out here.” He sighed. “I’m…surprised.”

Koujaku sighed too. He couldn’t believe after all they’d been through, Noiz still didn’t understand.  “Well sorry for thinking that there was something going on between us.”

“You’re acting like a kid,” said Noiz.

He couldn’t help it, Koujaku’s mouth slipped open and he gawked at Noiz. “ _I’m_ …?”

Noiz nodded at him slowly, as though his statement was an incontrovertible fact. But Koujaku turned his head and glared off in the other direction.

“I don’t need a brat like you telling me I’m acting like a kid.”

“Then act your age.”

“You don’t think I’m acting my age?” Koujaku spat back. “Do you know how many times I’ve stopped myself from punching you today? How much self-restrain I’ve needed to do that?”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Koujaku thought he caught a glimmer of a grin on Noiz’s lips. “Why are you stopping yourself? Do it.”

That old heat was starting up again, that furnace in his chest that made all his muscles burn, that made his fingers twitch with the urge to curl into a fist. He hadn’t truly felt like this in awhile, not since before he realized that indistinct, dizzying feeling he felt in his head whenever he saw Noiz wasn’t disgust or loathing but affection. But here it was resurfacing, a genuine desire to hurt the man sitting next to him, the itch to connect his fist with a human body and hear a crack beneath his knuckles, to pull and scratch and tear. Noiz wasn’t the only person who’d ever made Koujaku feel like that, but god he did it so _well_.

“Go ahead, I can take it,” Noiz continued. Now he was teasing, goading. Koujaku hated that. “You’ve never held back before.”

Koujaku was doing his best to ignore him, ignore the rage stewing inside of him, but his muscles were tense and his weight was shifted forward.

“Alright, whatever,” sighed Noiz. “Guess you’re too old to fight me anyway.”

It was the most inane comment, so entirely inoffensive when Koujaku stopped to examine it later, especially since Noiz made statements like that every day they spent together. Maybe that was why it set Koujaku off. Either way, next thing he knew, he’d swung a hook around into Noiz’s gut.

And after that, he’d snapped. All his self-control flowed out and left only fierce tension in his muscles. Suddenly every inch of his body wanted to throw Noiz to the ground and grind his new, unpierced face into the dirt, to rub mud into that fancy suit, to leave dark bruises on that pale skin. All the anxiety and despair and anger came together and drove him forward at once, and the next thing he knew he was on the ground, straddling Noiz, aiming punches at his face.

Noiz’s arms flew up to block the blows and he bucked his hips to unseat Koujaku. Momentarily surprised, Koujaku lost his balance, allowing Noiz to spill him over and claw at his clothes to get the upper hand. They went rolling across path, the wet asphalt leaving bright red scrapes on any exposed skin, grabbing and tugging at each other’s hair, pushing and pinning each other into puddles.

A feeling almost akin to relief spread through Koujaku as he kneed Noiz hard in the gut. Noiz’s breath was hard and fast, and came out in a _whoosh_ when Koujaku flipped him over and slammed him onto the ground. His fist found Koujaku’s stomach, giving him the opportunity to roll over him once again and connect a punch with his jaw. Koujaku’s head snapped back and white flashed in his eyes, and Noiz’s body was so hot and fierce on his, and he could feel their hearts pounding together as they grappled on the ground.

It was better than sex.

Koujaku didn’t stop until the tang of blood met his tongue and he noticed a dark bruise starting to bloom beneath Noiz’s right eye. Instead of throwing another punch, he shoved himself off of Noiz and retreated backwards a few feet, coming to rest on his haunches. Noiz also rolled back, away from him, and they sat there on the path in the park, chests heaving, feeling the previously adrenaline-tempered pain flow through them.

A wondrous laugh came from Noiz. Koujaku knew. He knew it was because the pain and his ability to feel it still awed Noiz. If Koujaku had still been angry, this would have been annoying, but all emotion had left him during the fight and he now felt more relaxed than he had in over a week.

Noiz was apparently done marveling in his own nerve endings, because he was suddenly standing over Koujaku, smirking a little, holding out a dirtied hand with bloodied knuckles. Koujaku looked up at him and felt his heart speed up again infuriatingly. Noiz’s suit was soaked through, with splotches of mud spotting him like a piebald cat. His bangs were dark and plastered to his forehead with sweat and rainwater, and his lip was split and his cheek turning purple.

Without his brain’s approval, he reached up and took the offered hand, and was wrenched to his feet.

“Ouch,” he said, pulling his hand from Noiz’s to stretch and rotate his shoulder. He’d landed hard on it at one point, and he could feel the spot where the bone was tender.

“Losing stamina in your old age?” Noiz teased, and for a second things felt so normal that Koujaku almost reached out and grabbed his hand again.

He wasn’t going to do that anymore. All this shit with Noiz was over, he’d decided, and he would stick to that. It didn't matter how good he looked all scraped up like that.

“Come on,” Noiz tossed over his shoulder, picking up his now-useless umbrella and starting to walk back in the direction from which he came.

“Where?” Koujaku asked grudgingly.

Noiz paused just long enough to answer him. “You’re going to spend the night _here_?”

When Koujaku thought about it logically and realized he honestly didn’t have any other options that so easily included a shower, a bed, and a plane ticket back to Midorijima, he sighed and trudged after Noiz.

“Where are we going?” Koujaku asked again, hoping for an actual answer this time.

“Family’s house,” Noiz answered, leading Koujaku around to a parking lot, where he climbed into the front of an unlocked expensive-looking silver car. He jerked his head towards the back seat, urging Koujaku to get in too, and Koujaku tentatively did, trying his best not to get the fresh-smelling leather seats wet or dirty. He failed.

“Family’s house?” Koujaku repeated.

“Don’t worry. My parents won’t even know you’re there.”

Koujaku didn’t give this too much thought and instead asked about a more pressing matter, meeting Noiz’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “You can drive?”

“No,” Noiz said. “But he can.”

He glanced towards the figure approaching the car through the rain. He was familiar, but it wasn’t until he was almost upon them that he realized it was Noiz’s brother. Koujaku heaved a sigh to hide his complete embarrassment and tried to make himself as invisible as possible in the back seat, which is rather difficult when you’re over six feet tall.

A barrage of German scolding entered the car with Noiz’s brother, all quite clearly directed towards the drenched man in the passenger’s seat, and it wasn’t until after he’d turned the car on and gone to back out of the parking space that Noiz’s brother noticed Koujaku. He turned to give him a warm smile and what sounded like it must have been some kind of friendly greeting before returning to the steering wheel and ranting harshly at Noiz. Koujaku didn’t even have to glance at Noiz to tell that he wasn’t listening and didn’t care, but even if Koujaku hadn’t known him as well as he did, his body language broadcasted this rather clearly.

They drove through the city and out into suburbs, and then even less populated areas. Koujaku lost track of how long they’d been in the car for, but eventually they pulled into the driveway of a beautiful home that could easily swallow his entire apartment building in Midorijima whole, and seemed to have no neighbors for quite some acres. Noiz said no words at all to his brother, but instead threw his door open the moment the car pulled to a stop, and Koujaku rushed to follow, apologetically bowing at the driver.

Noiz was right, they never once saw a glimpse of any other living creature as they made their way up the broad spiral stairs within the exquisitely-furnished house. Koujaku was led into a large but sparsely-furnished bedroom, which even contained its own kitchen. He was about to ask Noiz about it, but was curtly interrupted first.

“Shower,” Noiz said, pointing to a closed door. “Towels are under the sink. I’ll leave clothes by the door for you.”

Koujaku didn’t want to question anything now. He just went and did as he was told, because he hadn’t taken a shower in quite some time.

There was not only a pair of pajamas waiting for him when he stepped out of the shower, but also a tray of steaming food. Koujaku eyed it hungrily as Noiz told him he could sleep in the bedroom next door, and then pushed past him into the bathroom. After relocating to his allocated room, Koujaku scarfed down the meal quickly, and then laid down in the large, neatly-made bed.

He laid there and, without meaning to, thought of _that_ day. It had been over a year ago now. The day he’d finally decided to do it. He’d had a little speech all prepared. It was all about how much it hurt him to see Aoba so upset, how much Aoba’s smiles meant to him and how he missed them. And it was about how Koujaku didn’t know what had hurt Aoba so badly, but he would do everything in his power to make him happy again. He’d been really terrified when Aoba was in that tower all alone, and maybe things hadn’t been quite right since, but maybe Aoba could find something to brighten his days again. Maybe that thing could be Koujaku. _I love you_ , he’d thought he’d say. _And if you could come to love me too, maybe we could be happy together._

That same day, as he was leaving the hospital from a visit with Mizuki, just about to call Aoba to ask if he could come over, he’d run into Aoba on his way in. But it was an Aoba he’d never seen before. This Aoba wasn’t just smiling. This Aoba positively beamed, like a child seeing the ocean for the first time. This Aoba was floating instead of walking. This Aoba was radiant.

Koujaku stopped to ask this Aoba if he was on his way to see Mizuki, but this Aoba barely had time to give him a cheerful greeting and a, “Nah, I’m just…,” before disappearing into the elevator and away.

This was not the Aoba he’d planned on confessing to. Something had changed, and for some reason he felt as though he’d been pushed out of the picture. It wasn’t until later that he learned exactly how much his chances of having Aoba had dropped around that time, when Aoba’s mood abruptly spiked, but he knew somehow subconsciously that they had.

It was that night, huddled in the back of a bar with his arm around one girl’s waist and his hand on another’s thigh, mind thick with disappointment and confusion and too much alcohol, that Noiz had happened across him for the first time in awhile. Somehow or another (he couldn’t remember the particular events very well), instead of either of those girls’ beds he’d ended up in Noiz’s, with a black eye and a bruised ribcage.

When he thought about where he would be in his life without Noiz, it was a difficult thing to come to terms with. He had lost Aoba forever that day, to someone who had loved him longer and cared for him more fiercely than even Koujaku had. And yet to Koujaku, Aoba had been as vital to living as oxygen. But just as Koujaku had been asphyxiating, Noiz came along and gave him new air to breathe. He’d always thought it was funny that it had turned out like that, how someone he despised had ended up becoming a person he couldn’t survive without. But here he was, having traveled halfway across the globe for some shitty brat.

That was all ending though, and everything was falling to pieces again. Koujaku wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pick himself back up after all was said and done. Thinking bitter thoughts, he began to drift, and eventually settled into a dark, empty sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should have just posted the whole fic at once because honestly this part doesn't add much to the story and I don't think it's as good. But I hope you enjoy anyway.

Koujaku jolted awake.

From the hall, light poured into his room around a slouching silhouette in the doorway. He sat up, groggy, and stared for a second before recognition dawned on him. Noiz then made the most hesitant action Koujaku had ever seen from him, taking a half step and then pausing.

“What are you doing here?” Koujaku half-growled, half-croaked, his eyes still itching with sleep.

Noiz didn’t answer.

“Get out. I’m sleeping.”

Noiz scoffed, but it sounded dry and painful. “No amount of beauty rest can fix your ugly face.”

At another time, in another place, Koujaku would have taken this as a compliment and maybe even an invitation to pin him up against a wall. But right now, exhausted physically and emotionally, it was just the immature comment of a stupid little kid.

“Get out, before I make you.”

He’d expected Noiz to snicker or smirk or say, “I’d like to see you try.” But instead, as Koujaku’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, they merely stared at each other with the vague hopelessness of awaiting something that one knows will never come. Then, abruptly, Noiz spun around and left, slamming the door behind him.

Koujaku laid back down, cocooning himself in the soft unfamiliar sheets, promising himself that this was for the better. But the second he closed his eyes again, Noiz’s face at that last second before he turned to leave came to mind. He’d been making a face that Koujaku had seen before, though not often and usually in the dark like this. It was still an expression of Noiz’s, and no kind of emotion could prevent the way his green eyes always glared and his lips only had too settings, smug or dissatisfied. But the expression he’d worn just then lived under all that. It showed up in the dead of night when he woke up from a nightmare so bad that he bolted to the bathroom and vomited. It was the one on his face when he knocked on Koujaku’s door at three in the morning, asking if he could crash on his couch. It appeared that time four months ago when Koujaku had come home to find him sitting naked on the bathroom floor, surrounded by splatters of his own blood, staring at the wounds on his body but unable to feel them. It looked like annoyance but actually read like fear, and every single time Koujaku saw it he couldn’t do anything to keep his chest from feeling constricted.

He tried to stop himself from getting out of bed. He really did. And he made a good effort to halt when he reached the door to the hallway, and as he stood there squinting in the bright corridor, he struggled for an entire two minutes in front of Noiz’s door.

He really shouldn’t have to put up with this bullshit anymore. There were too many problems in their relationship. They could never last anyway. In the beginning Noiz was just someone else he’d been inside. Just a hatefuck. He should have stayed that way. He’d go back to being that way, as soon as this was all over, and Koujaku wouldn’t ever bother with him again. Right now he’d go back to his room, get some sleep, and by tomorrow night he’d be back in his bed in Midorijima. Maybe with a nice beautiful girl.

Koujaku swung the door open.

He’d tried so hard, but he couldn’t fight it. He couldn’t fight a year of waking up happy and warm and content with his arms around that thin body. He couldn’t fight a year of scorching heat felt under lips and fingertips. He couldn’t fight a year of being held by cool arms when he felt like he couldn’t bear the inferno inside of him, a year of holding him together when he thought he might crumble to dust. A year of sharing secrets and dark pasts and the kisses that made them seem almost bearable.  

On the other side of the doorway, he found complete darkness. Stepping further into the room, he stumbled across a floor lamp, and turned it on to spread soft, warm light. It illuminated a heap of skin and bones and clothing crumpled on the floor. Noiz’s face was peaceful, his eyes closed, but his shoulders trembled like he was straining with an enormous weight.

Koujaku didn’t hesitate anymore. He walked in, sat down next to Noiz, and lifted his head into his lap. Noiz didn’t open his eyes, but he did latch onto Koujaku’s arm when he went to stroke his hair. They sat in silence for awhile, Koujaku rubbing circles on his back and waiting for the shaking to calm.

Finally, he asked, “Is this where your parents kept you?”

“Yeah,” Noiz answered with shallow breath.

Suddenly something shifted into place for Koujaku. Something he hadn’t really considered yet. Noiz had to be here for a reason, probably an important one. There was some purpose for him being here, for putting himself through something Koujaku knew was agonizing for him. Maybe Noiz was lucky to have a family at all, but Koujaku could relate to the loathing for those who had mistreated him better than anyone. If he was going to come here to a family and a place that made him shake in the middle of the night like this, he was determined about something. Koujaku wondered if Noiz had spent every night since he left his apartment that morning on the floor here, and if he had, then _why_.

“What are you doing here?” Koujaku asked, dragging his fingers slowly through Noiz’s downy-soft hair.

He was sure Noiz wasn’t going to answer, but he opened his mouth. “I got a job.”

Koujaku almost laughed. “You had a job. What was wrong with that one?”

“It wasn’t a real job.”

Since when had Noiz needed a _real_ job? That didn’t fit him at all.

This time, Koujaku did chuckle a little bit, gently. “Are you getting all mature on me now?”

“Yeah.” Noiz abruptly sat up with a sigh.

“Yeah?” Koujaku asked. “What brought this on?”

Noiz looked away and shifted uncomfortably so that he wasn’t touching Koujaku anymore. They were getting closer to the heart of the matter, and they could both feel it, so much so that Noiz appeared unwilling to answer any further questions. But he did anyway.

“You.”

Koujaku wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but the word made his breath hurt in his chest. “What do you mean?”

Noiz rolled his eyes, ineffectively attempting to hide his embarrassment. “Nothing really.”

“Tell me,” Koujaku said.

Noiz turned away without a word, so Koujaku leaned around him to see his face.

“You’re pretty dense, huh?” Noiz grumbled. “You shouldn’t need me to explain it to you,”

“But I do.”

Koujaku listened to the sound of Noiz’s breathing, so familiar that it was almost musical.

“You’re….” Noiz started, then stopped, and then started again. “You have a job. A home. A life.”

“So I inspired you?” Koujaku asked, partially teasing but also for some reason wanting it to be true.  

“No,” Noiz said. “I just knew I could beat you.”

Koujaku couldn’t tell if this was a joke or a challenge. “Uh….”

Abruptly, Noiz turned and met his eyes. “I want to be worthy of you.”

Koujaku sat back. He stared up towards the ceiling. He breathed. He thought.

“You dumb brat,” he finally said. “Is that the reason why you didn’t want me here?”

“No. I didn’t want to get distracted. I wanted to hurry up and get settled so I could go back to Midorijima and get you.”

What? Was he serious?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Koujaku asked.

Noiz shrugged. “It was easier.”

Koujaku sighed deeply. _What_ was easier? Spending a week and a half moping and miserable? He wasn’t going to pretend that Noiz wasn’t at fault for anything. It was still cruel of him to disappear like that, and to try and send Koujaku away without any bit of warmth. But suddenly with this knowledge breathing not only felt easier but felt _good_. Noiz hadn’t been running from him or rejecting him or anything like that. In fact, this whole time he’d been pushing himself forward through discomfort and pain to bring them closer together. He’d left Midorijima, where he’d finally found a contented life, and returned to a country and family he despised, abandoning part of his own identity in the process.

All this for Koujaku.

The tightness in his throat threatened his voice, so instead of saying anything aloud, he shifted closer to Noiz and pressed his lips against his ear. “Am I distracting you?” he whispered.

Noiz’s embarrassment somehow seemed to melt away with these words, and he turned back towards Koujaku and scooted closer.

“Yeah. Since I first saw you today,” Noiz admitted. “You have to go back tomorrow.”

“Not without you,” Koujaku said, resting his hands on Noiz’s hips, and when Noiz frowned he added, “Do you like your work that much?”

Noiz shrugged, and Koujaku drew him closer. Despite everything he’d thought before about leaving Noiz, the fact of the matter was that he wanted him. Especially now that some of the tougher emotions had subsided a bit, he wanted to touch him. That slender body seemed like it was singing to Koujaku, begging for his hands on it. He couldn’t help but comply, running his palms down Noiz’s arms, bringing his arms around his waist, slipping fingers past the elastic waistband at the back of Noiz’s pajama bottoms. Noiz smirked and shifted into the touch, wordlessly inviting him to go further.

“It’s not terrible.”

“It doesn’t seem very fun,” Koujaku said, his hand gaining purchase and giving the muscle and fat a squeeze.

“It’s fine,” Noiz replied. “I’m not doing it for fun.”

Koujaku brushed a finger against the tight opening, and then slowly pressed inside. Noiz didn’t react, but Koujaku knew that he could feel his every motion.

“So it’s okay to do something you hate, because you’re doing it for me,” Koujaku teased.

“Don’t be so egotistical. You sound dumb,” Noiz replied, shifting so that Koujaku’s finger sunk in almost to the knuckle, rubbing and circling and working at the muscles. He used his fingertip to search, pressing against the smooth inner flesh, until—

Noiz jolted and his hand flew to Koujaku’s shoulder and gripped it tightly. _There_. Koujaku rubbed against the spot again, hoping to wipe the slight smirk off of Noiz’s features, but his expression stayed cool even as another finger was pressed against his entrance.

However, Koujaku was pleased to note that his breathing was a little uneven as he continued, “So what? Couldn’t find any women to stick your dick in while I was gone?”

Koujaku scoffed. “You don’t just ‘stick your dick’ in women.”

Those fresh green eyes appeared to be appraising him for these words, and as Koujaku met them his heartbeat sped up. With a bit more force he curled his finger forward and got a pleased languid blink in response. He didn’t know if it was possible to make Noiz come from this alone, but he would certainly try. His second finger was already most of the way in, and began to aid the first in pressing against the spot he knew would make Noiz moan, sooner or later.

It turned out to be sooner. Noiz did moan, a little bit, deep and low in his throat. Koujaku let the corners of his mouth curl up a little. This was a lot easier than it used to be, before Noiz could feel.

“Anyway,” Koujaku said, feeling a little bit relieved, “I was too busy worrying about you to do anything like that.”

As he reached his arms around Koujaku’s neck, Noiz quivered a little bit, and the older man began to rub with increasing urgency. If he could get Noiz to completely fall apart for him right now, everything would seem right again.

“You’re too sentimental, old man.”

Although it had only been a week and a half, they’d not gone that long without touching each other in almost a year, and Koujaku’s skin began to itch in a pleasant way where he could feel Noiz’s weight and flesh against himself. He shifted his unoccupied arm around Noiz’s waist and pulled him more solidly into his lap, gaining more leverage to push harder and further inside.

“That’s your fault,” he breathed close to Noiz’s ear.

Noiz shivered, and Koujaku laughed.

“Shut up,” Noiz replied, but rocked back onto Koujaku’s fingers. He was close already, Koujaku could tell. Maybe he’d also spent the last week and a half unable to jack off.

It was hot inside him, so hot that Koujaku felt like he could burn his fingers on the intimacy. Maybe it’d been a mistake to get caught up with this immature brat, this kid years younger than him who didn’t seem to know up from down most of the time and didn’t even care, who left messes around and didn’t bother to clean them up, who could draw fifty different kinds of intense emotion from Koujaku with just a flash of his eyes and a smug smile.

With Koujaku’s name on his lips, Noiz’s eyes fluttered shut and his muscles contracted around Koujaku’s fingers.

No. Not a mistake. It was difficult at times, maybe, but he wouldn’t say it had been a mistake.

Koujaku pulled his fingers out and went to push the heavily-breathing Noiz off of his lap. “Move, brat, I have to go wash my hands now.”

Noiz appeared to have lost motor function in his legs, so he stumbled a little bit as he stood, adjusting his pajama bottoms. He trailed behind Koujaku into his bathroom, where he immediately dropped his dirtied pants to the ground as Koujaku washed his hands. Once finished, Koujaku turned to help wipe the semen from his thighs, but instead stopped what he was doing and stared.

“What?” Noiz said, noticing his eyes on him. “You’ve seen all this before.”

“The piercings,” Koujaku said, forcing his eyes up to meet Noiz’s gaze. “You kept them.”

Noiz shrugged. “It’s not like anyone else sees them.” But then he looked away, hesitating. “Are they okay?”

Something else clicked into place for Koujaku just then. Something about acceptance, something that he understood pretty well.

He smiled, almost playfully. “They’re okay.”

Tossing the towel he’d been using to clean himself off to the ground, Noiz stepped closer to Koujaku, still wearing nothing but a t-shirt. He pushed himself up to brush his lips against the taller man’s, then immediately dropped to his knees.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Koujaku asked, feeling a blush creep up into his face as Noiz began to pull the borrowed pajama bottoms away from his hips.

“It’s your turn,” Noiz said, ignoring Koujaku’s hands, which seemed unable to decide between running through Noiz’s hair and holding Noiz’s face away from his swelling cock.

Revealing it completely, Noiz leisurely ran his tongue first down one side of the shaft, and then lifted it with his hand to press kisses to the underside. Unhurriedly, he dragged his lips along until he reached the tip, and then poked his tongue out to gently circle it. With those green eyes like lit fuses, he glanced up through his fair lashes, an eyebrow raised. Koujaku gripped the counter for support and backed up so that he was leaning against it. _Damn_ , the kid knew what he was doing.

“Noiz,” Koujaku said, trying to regulate his breathing. It was way too early to be this excited. “Stop messing around.”

“Hm?” Noiz asked, pressing his lips to the slit. “You want me to stop?”

Koujaku growled. “You little shit.”

Noiz’s tongue lazily flicked out to trace the curves of his head. “What do you want me to do, th—mmph!”

Koujaku had taken advantage of Noiz’s open mouth to shove his dick inside. It was a risky game to play, since Noiz had teeth and wasn’t shy about using them. But he was lucky enough to find only a tongue and firm lips and a sultry sigh on his cock. He thought Noiz might pull back and complain, but instead he was sinking further into into Noiz’s mouth, the tight wet ring of his lips advancing towards his pelvis, the tip coming into contact with the wet back of his throat.

As Noiz pulled back again, he pressed his tongue to the bottom of the shaft and sucked _hard_ , drawing the first moan from Koujaku’s throat. One of his scarred hands had somehow at some point ended up nested in that strawberry blond hair, and he had to stop himself from gripping his scalp and choking him on his dick. It had only been about two weeks since the last time he’d felt that tongue there, but those two weeks had been long and full of anxiety, and so few things felt better than being inside Noiz’s mouth. It almost would’ve been relaxing if it wasn’t so stirring, watching himself disappear repeatedly past those moist lips, feeling a hand pump at the base in time with the movements of Noiz’s mouth, surrendering to that hot wet tightness on him. Over the past year, Noiz had gotten better at this than any woman he’d ever been with, to the point where just the thought of his warm breath on his cock was enough to make Koujaku hard.

Though admittedly, something was missing. Koujaku wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t miss the tongue piercing, how Noiz used to use it to tease his tip or run along the thick underside of his shaft. But still, it was good. So good that the pounding of his own heart threatened to drown out the moist sucking and slurping coming from below, and that his hips jolted when Noiz stopped to run his tongue over the leaking slit.

“Don’t move,” muttered Noiz, using his free hand to pin Koujaku’s hip against the counter.

“Can’t help it,” Koujaku grumbled in reply, pangs of pleasure shooting down his legs and causing them to spasm.

He couldn’t help the moans now. They seemed to be coming from somewhere else, and not his own body, but they echoed in his ears. Noiz hummed appreciatively around his erection, and the vibration interrupted Koujaku’s already-uneven breathing with a sharp gasp.

“ _Shit_ ,” Koujaku said, clutching the countertop behind him with white knuckles. He was starting to feel dangerously tense, the pressure growing almost unbearable. “Bastard…that feels too good….”

Noiz’s strangled laughter reached his ears at the same time that violent urges began to reach his hips. His thoughts were coming in muddled jagged fragments, desperate and nonsensical, and the way that Noiz’s tongue swiped across his head sent a jolt up his spine. He met Noiz’s eyes as he went to take in the entire length of his cock, the tip searching for his throat and finding it, again and again. He moaned at the tight energy. The white hot strain. Every part of his body tensed and wanting.

“ _Noiz_!”

He pushed Noiz’s head back a little as he came, feeling himself spurt out into the younger man’s mouth. It felt like Noiz had sucked it out of him, and now he was swallowing it down, his eyes closed like he was enjoying a delicacy. His dexterous tongue lapped gently at Koujaku, making sure to soak up every last drop.

Koujaku let the warm satisfaction spread throughout his body, leaning back on the counter and letting every muscle relax. His shoulders rose and fell with his still-rapid breaths, but now the blood seemed to be flowing lethargically through his veins, bringing a glow with it wherever it went. Shit, coming to Germany for just that blowjob alone would’ve been worth it.

Noiz stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his slightly oversized t-shirt not doing much to hide his bare hips and legs. Despite where his lips had just been, Koujaku was suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to kiss him, and so he leaned forward and did, opening up slightly to nip at the tongue that prodded into his mouth. It was a quick kiss, and tasted a little too thick and bitter for Koujaku’s liking, but Koujaku could’ve sworn he felt his heart lighten a little bit. _Dammit,_ this bastard had him good.

“C’mon,” Noiz muttered as he took Koujaku by the hand and brought him back into the bedroom. He laid down in the bed, pulling the comforter up around his shoulders, and looked expectantly as Koujaku, waiting for him to lay down next to him.

He _knew_ that Koujaku couldn’t get it up again that fast. Was this an invitation to _cuddle_?

Smiling to himself, he laid down beside him and turned towards him, sweeping his eyes across his face. It was strange to him, but it was still Noiz after all. Those green eyes looked back at him, rebellious, though his expression was more open and vulnerable than usual. Koujaku wrapped his arms around Noiz’s waist and pulled him closer, reveling in the way his skin felt against his own bare legs. Noiz entangled their limbs, pushing his face into Koujaku’s shoulder, and a kind of pleasant heat that had only a little to do with the memory of Noiz’s mouth on his dick spread through Koujaku’s chest.

“Hey,” Koujaku said, not wanting to disturb the moment but still having more than a few things left to say. “Now what?”

While he waited in silence for an answer, Koujaku moved his hand up to the fuzz of hair on the back of Noiz’s neck, rubbing the soft bristles between his fingers.

“You’re going to move here with me. I’ll support you.”

Koujaku was feeling generous, so he allowed Noiz a chuckle for his bad joke.

Noiz raised his head to look Koujaku in the eyes. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious.”

“Seriously _dumb_ ,” Koujaku replied, but looking at Noiz’s face, he realized that this was the wrong thing to say, and hesitantly started again. “Hey…look. I’m actually really impressed that you’ve done all this…but….”

Noiz raised his eyebrows, waiting for Koujaku to choose his words.

Instead, he freed one of his hands and ran his fingers over Noiz’s face. First, his right eyebrow, where there were two holes at the corner. Then to the bridge of his nose. His lower lip. The lobe of his left ear, and then all the way down the side of his right ear. The back of his neck, and his hands. He thought of Noiz’s question in the bathroom. _Are they okay_.

“Like you said, I have a life. In Midorijima.” Noiz frowned deeply, but Koujaku went on. “You do too.”

For a second Koujaku expected him to be contrary, but Noiz was waiting for more.

“Put your piercings back in and come back to Midorijima with me.”

 “Why?”

Shrugging, Koujaku shifted uncomfortably and looked away. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“Deal with what?”

Koujaku gestured vaguely to the room. “Your…uh...family and all that.” He ran his pointer finger down Noiz’s nose again. “Having to change for something dumb like this.”

Noiz looked away. “It’s just growing up.”

“You were fine before. Better than fine. Good. Great.” Koujaku wasn’t sure how much of this he was saying because he wanted Noiz back in his bed at his apartment in Japan, but he did know that somehow at some point he had come to care enough about this little shit that it hurt to see him in pain. And Koujaku never wanted him to spend a night laying shaking on the floor again. “Please come back to Midorijima with me.”

“Are you stupid?” Noiz replied. “I’m never going to achieve anything there.”

“Sure you will. You already had a job—”

“Shut up,” Noiz snapped. “You’re not getting it. I’ll do better than that.”

“Why? For me?” Koujaku said, starting to grow agitated again. “Because I don’t give a shit about any of that. I don’t care. As long as you’re _happy_.”

Noiz stared at him, and Koujaku had to wonder if he’d ever had anyone tell him that they wanted him to be happy before. That was something that even Koujaku at least had had the privilege of, but Noiz? It was possible that this was the first time he was ever hearing those words.

“You’re not getting it,” Noiz repeated, but his voice had lost its conviction. Maybe Koujaku had gotten him, or maybe Noiz just needed to think about some things. He didn’t really know. But he did know that Noiz was curling closer to him, his thin body fitting as close to Koujaku’s as he could possibly get it.

 

Koujaku had just managed to doze off when a sudden weight on him woke him. His eyes flew open when a pair lips collided almost painfully with his own. They’d never quite gotten a hang of the whole “gentle” thing and Koujaku didn’t think that they ever would. That was fine, but it took Koujaku a moment to give in to the abrupt kiss and open his mouth to let Noiz in. When he did, his lip was gnawed on, and he felt it all the way down to the base of his spine.

Noiz’s entire body was pressed up against him, his arms finding their way around his neck, and only the shirts they wore kept any of their skin apart. Compared to women, Noiz was heavier, more angular, and had less places to grab onto, but he pushed harder and stronger and wasn’t ever shy. He had to admit that he’d become somewhat addicted to this kind of fierce, fast desperation. If he ever had to go back to the leisurely movements of the squishy women he’d been with before, he wasn’t sure if he’d enjoy it.

As Noiz shoved his leg between Koujaku’s, the last of his sleepiness fell away, and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around the younger man’s waist. Their bodies crashed together, violently striving to find the places where it felt good to shift against each other. This was how it always was, and after the week and a half he’d had, he had to admit that it was reassuring. Though truthfully, Noiz’s mouth felt a little empty as he shoved his tongue between his lips. Without the piercing usually there, the sounds of clinking against Koujaku’s teeth were notably absent, and all he could hear was increasingly heavy breathing and the smack of wet lips.

Something hard pressed against Koujaku’s lower body as Noiz inched forward, and Koujaku’s cock twitched excitedly in response. Although they’d already gotten each other off, they hadn’t actually had sex yet since Koujaku arrived, and it seemed like this was a wrong Noiz was intent on righting. To confirm these speculations, Noiz leaned over to grope around the bedside table for lube, and then with it in hand, centered his hips and started slowly grinding down on Koujaku. The older man sighed into their kiss.

“Noiz,” he protested, breaking his lips and teeth and tongue away. “Your family’s here, aren’t they?”

“Doesn't matter,” Noiz grunted, running his hand through Koujaku’s hair, and then pushing it back to reveal the smooth skin on his neck. “They won’t bother us.”

_That doesn’t mean we won’t bother them_ , Koujaku thought dryly, but he honestly couldn't be moved to care. He didn’t stop Noiz anymore, not now that Noiz’s teeth and lips were on his throat. He reciprocated by shoving his hands up Noiz’s sides under his shirt, shuddering as teeth grazed his collarbone. Noiz’s grinding continued, inflaming Koujaku and making him impatient. The remaining layers of clothing between them were in his way.

He tugged Noiz’s shirt up over his head, and sat up a little so that Noiz could do the same for him. Now completely naked and flush against each other, the temperature really started to build between them. Noiz’s piercings pressed into his hardening cock, the metal ridges feeling painfully good against the sensitive skin.

More. He wanted more.

“Is that all you’ve got, brat?” he asked, preparing to flip them both over and take control.

He didn’t realize that Noiz had already made different plans. He hadn’t noticed the hand that had been on his stomach creeping slowly downward, further and further, onto his thigh and beneath him.

“I haven’t even started yet,” Noiz retorted, and without any kind of warning, plunged a lubed finger into him.

Koujaku let out a sharp breathy moan in surprise, earning himself a hungry look from Noiz. The smaller man licked his lips slowly, and Koujaku felt like he was about to be devoured.

“Who said you could top?” Koujaku challenged.

“Me,” replied Noiz.

Koujaku supposed he didn’t really have a problem with it. He was pretty used to having Noiz inside of him by this point, since it happened probably about half of the time they had sex, usually as the result of some disgruntled wrestling beforehand that led to Koujaku being pinned beneath him. It definitely wasn’t the unpleasant experience that Koujaku had imagined before he’d gotten himself into this mess. As long as Noiz was being careful enough, it was actually just as good as being the one inside of him. And Koujaku could definitely appreciate the expression Noiz got when pounding them. To his face Koujaku would just tell him it wasn’t very cute, which was completely true. It wasn’t cute. It was absolutely dominating, powerful, arousing.

So he only pretended to oppose the idea for a little bit, trying to push Noiz off and making him pin him to the mattress with the weight of his shoulder on his chest. But after a little halfhearted struggling, he let Noiz’s finger worm its way further inside, the muscles that had initially rejected it now loosening and coming to accept him. Meanwhile, Noiz left dark spots on his skin with his lips and his teeth, roaming across Koujaku’s shoulders and upper chest. His hips continued to rock against him, but that wasn’t doing a whole lot for Koujaku. Grabbing their erections and holding them together in one hand, he began pumping, making sure that his fingertips pressed into Noiz’s just enough so that he could feel his nails scraping against it.

Noiz’s mouth drew away in surprise and his breath hitched, and Koujaku loosened his grip, wondering if he had hurt him. He was used to handling Noiz when he couldn’t feel anything except for nails digging into his flesh and too-tight squeezes and hard sharp teeth. But now that he could feel, he was suddenly extra-sensitive, and even if he did seem to enjoy a little bit of pain, Koujaku tried to make sure to not go overboard.

But instead of stopping or complaining or wincing, Noiz returned to sucking at a patch of Koujaku’s skin with renewed vigor, a second finger twisting into him. It must’ve felt good, then. Koujaku tightened his fist again and quickened his rhythm. Top or bottom, after what Noiz put him through, he wanted to absolutely _destroy_ him. He wanted to hear him moan and see his face twist with the effort of fighting the pleasure and make him beg for more.

At least that was the plan. But he could feel his own volition growing weak as Noiz’s fingers pushed deep into him, rubbing against sensitive spots he didn’t even know he had, and his skin felt hot wherever Noiz’s lips touched. _Damn it_. He stopped his hand and separated their cocks, both leaking from the tip, and taking Noiz’s, began tugging at the piercings.

His dick jerked in response and he shuddered, so Koujaku did it again, harder. This drew out a soft moan from Noiz’s throat, and Koujaku thought he might be gaining the upper hand, until Noiz caught the expression on his face and immediately removed his fingers and sat up. Feeling the strange void like parts of his body were missing, Koujaku glanced at Noiz in surprise.

“Turn over,” Noiz commanded.

Apparently Koujaku wasn’t moving fast enough for him, because he yanked the larger man up and tried to spin him around. Koujaku being bigger and stronger, he was tempted to sit still for a minute and let Noiz struggle, but his own needs were pressing as well. He rolled onto his stomach, spread his legs, and sighed as Noiz pulled his hips up, kneeling behind him. He braced his arms against the headboard.

Thick and stiff and hot, Noiz’s tip rested against the loosened muscle. Koujaku pushed backwards, feeling slick and open and ready, hoping to catch Noiz off-guard.

“Eager, are we?” Noiz teased, slipping the head inside.

Koujaku was the one actually left off-guard, gasping as Noiz began to fill the space inside him again. “Shut up and fuck me, brat.”

Noiz let out a single husky laugh and followed his directions, pushing his piercings one by one past the sphincter and inside. Koujaku had to grit his teeth and lean his head on his arms.

He heard a satisfied sigh from behind him. “Damn. It’s tight.”

Koujaku grunted in response. He already knew how tight he was, because it felt like Noiz was straining against his insides in all directions, like his skin and muscles were being forced open. Noiz pushed all the way inside, until Koujaku though he might actually tear, and then….

There were fingers on Koujaku’s back, cool where he felt like his skin was burnt. They traced the jagged outlines of petals.

“Stop fooling around,” Koujaku snapped, feeling self-conscious.

“Why?” Noiz replied, voice like artificial sweetener. “I’m just appreciating your body.”

It had taken some time for Koujaku to feel comfortable about Noiz seeing his tattoos, and it still made him nervous when he brought attention to them. But despite the teasing tone in Noiz’s voice, something about this touch was uncharacteristically tender and affectionate and _completely_ embarrassing.

Koujaku didn’t want that right now. Koujaku wanted to be pounded into the mattress.

“D-do that later,” he stammered, blushing.

Noiz made an approving humming sound. “If you insist.”

Koujaku was shocked by the ferocity of Noiz’s first thrust.

He tensed his arms against the headboard. At this pace, he didn’t trust them to hold, and it was so easy to just drop his head between his shoulders and feel Noiz pounding at his insides. The younger man wasn’t holding back at all, already forcefully shoving his hips forward at a frantic pace. The gentle atmosphere of a few seconds ago had completely evaporated and left an almost primitive air in its wake, in which Noiz was only concerned with finding pleasure inside of Koujaku.

With practiced accuracy, Noiz almost immediately found the spot inside of Koujaku that made his legs tremble. And _god_ , Koujaku could feel every inch of his hard cock as it hammed in and out. Especially the piercing on the tip, hard and smooth. It drove into some particularly sensitive area and made him gasp with almost every wild thrust. It wasn’t long before he was moaning.

“Heh,” Noiz laughed between pants. “You’re a mess already.”

“You little shit,” Koujaku managed to choke out. “Just…keep going.”

Noiz did, and reached one arm around Koujaku to grasp his cock. He tightened his fingers around it and let his vigorous thrusts shove the shaft into his hold over and over. Koujaku started moving with him, heaving his pelvis forward to fuck Noiz’s hand and then pressing back so that Noiz rammed further into him. When Noiz extended his thumb to gather precum from the dripping head, unbearably agonizing pleasure shot though Koujaku’s body.

“Shit,” he sighed, already feeling the searing heat between his hips. Unable to support himself anymore, he dropped his shaking arms to the bed and leaned down on his forearms. Noiz stopped thrusting abruptly, and Koujaku nearly choked on his gasps.

“Why’d you stop?” he growled.

Noiz made an annoyed _tsk_ from behind him. “Why’d you move?”

Despite the ferocious _need_ that was gnawing at his from the inside, making it painful to sit still, Koujaku managed a laugh. He’d forgotten how much shorter Noiz was than him, and if he stuck his ass up like that, it made it hard for Noiz to thrust.

So, pulling himself off Noiz’s cock, he rolled over and looped his legs around Noiz’s torso. “Come on, brat. What are you waiting for?”

It had already been four months into their time sleeping together that they’d had sex facing each other for the first time, and Koujaku’d had no idea why they hadn’t done it earlier. Noiz’s face dripping with sweat turned his blood to molten lava, and watching his features contort with pleasure made Koujaku want to screw him senseless. Even when he was on the bottom, the intense concentration on Noiz’s face giving way to heavy-lidded eyes and red parted lips was a sight to behold.  

Especially now, when they were already close, as Noiz pushed inside again and restarted his harsh driving pace, Koujaku stared at his face. It was so different without decoration, but that almost made it easier to see the creases in his forehead as he strained to hold on, the way his nose scrunched up, exactly how bruised his lips were from the violent kisses earlier. They both huffed with exertion, Noiz grunting as he slammed forward.

Noiz didn’t look back for a moment, his eyes closed, but when he opened them their intense greenness looked straight at Koujaku and seemed to pinpoint his soul. When Noiz leaned forward and stretched his hand out, he could reach Koujaku’s face, and he brushed his sweat-drenched bangs away from his eye. They stared at each other, watching expressions for signs of pleasure, and Koujaku could see it all over Noiz’s face. The brat was far too sexy and it just wasn’t fair, not when Koujaku couldn’t control the spasms of his legs or his ragged breathing.

He bit his lip, trying to hold on. He hated coming before Noiz, but he wasn’t sure if he could help it. Fuck. It was too much. He shut his eyes. Felt Noiz inside of him. Listened to the wet squelching and the slap of flesh on flesh and Noiz’s voice. _God_ , Noiz’s voice, ragged and strained and pulling on his self-control. He could barely breathe. All he could do was splutter Noiz’s name, once, twice. A flash of heat spiked through him. His body convulsed. And then….

Pleasure swept him away, completely drowning his vision in darkness, freeing his mind of thought and his body of pressure. His entire being lightened, and he felt Noiz push deep and hard within him. Three, four more times he thrust, and then slowly drew to a halt, pouring out inside of Koujaku.

They remained motionless and breathed, in and out, settling into the calmness of release. Their eyes met, locked, and Koujaku couldn’t look away. For a shitty brat, someone he’d once hated, Noiz certainly knew how to make him feel good. More than that. Noiz was someone he couldn’t live without anymore.

As he pulled out, Noiz dragged his fingers across Koujaku’s abdomen through the cum that had spilled there. He continued to stare into Koujaku’s eyes as he lifted his hand to his mouth and lick it clean as though he was eating honey off of it. Koujaku blushed and sighed and looked away, pretending that Noiz wasn’t as arousing as all hell.

Koujaku went to sit up, but Noiz froze him with a glare. “Where are you going?”

Glancing pointedly down at the mess on his stomach and the wet feeling between his thighs, he replied, “To shower.”

“Don’t,” Noiz said, and moved off of him to grab a towel from the back of a nearby chair.

“Don’t just—,” Koujaku protested, but it was too late. Noiz was wiping at his torso with the towel. “Disgusting.”

Noiz snorted and moved it beneath Koujaku, and when he was done he carelessly tossed it to the floor beside the bed. He then proceeded to collapse onto Koujaku, who in turn wrapped his arms around him. With the smaller man’s head tucked between his neck and his shoulder, his breathing regulated and his heart rate returned to normal. Though, as they entangled themselves together, he felt a lasting warmth in his chest.

“Don’t you ever pull shit like this again,” Koujaku grumbled into his hair.

“Well, if you’re breaking up with me, I won’t have the chance to,” Noiz said with a tone that Koujaku knew was teasing only because he’d been with the brat for _so damn long_.

 Koujaku sighed. “I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled about it, old man.”

Tightening his hold, Koujaku replied, “What kind of idiot would want to be with someone like you?”

Noiz snickered. “Are you calling yourself an idiot?”

“…Maybe.”

Noiz rested his hand on Koujaku’s chest, first just feeling the skin with his fingertips, then lazily tracing the patterns of his tattoo. Koujaku listened for his breathing, the way his every breath sounded a bit like a sigh. He was happy to feel whole again. Something was right about this.

“Thanks for coming,” Noiz said, almost grudgingly.

“Of course I’d come. You sucked me off.”

Noiz snorted and didn’t bother correcting him. Koujaku already knew what he meant.

It was quiet then again, but Noiz seemed to have shifted his thoughts elsewhere. His fingers froze on Koujaku’s body, and he shut his eyes, curling his limbs inward as though trying to wrap himself around Koujaku.

“Stay with me,” whispered Noiz.

Koujaku knew. It wasn’t just a physical _with_ he was talking about. He didn’t want to be alone anymore, after having known how sweet it could be to find comfort in another. Koujaku felt the same way.

“I will,” Koujaku promised. “I don’t…” He started, stopped, and then realized he had to voice the conclusion he’d come to. “I don't want a life without you.”

All Koujaku got was a derisive sniff for that one, but he knew that somewhere in his thick skull, that was really all Noiz wanted to hear.

“So we’re going back to Midorijima, huh?” Koujaku prodded.

“…Possibly.”

Koujaku smiled to himself. That was the answer he’d needed.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is supposed to be read in one go but it's really long and taking me forever to edit so I split it into two chapters. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on tumblr! epiproctan.tumblr.com


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